


In Gold

by MADVS



Series: Sugar Daddy Hamura [1]
Category: JUDGE EYES: 死神の遺言 | Judgment
Genre: Creampie, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masks, Prostitution, Rough Oral Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Violent Thoughts, Yagami's got some repressed kinks to work out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 13:44:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20743163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MADVS/pseuds/MADVS
Summary: Yagami has a little deal going on with Hamura, and tonight Hamura wants to bring over a friend.





	In Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you can feel the gallons of cum I wasted writing this  
Yagami is my favorite cumdumpster

Yagami wasn’t one to delude himself in the state of his business. It was hardly as fast paced as he imagined, and for a crime infested hellhole like Kamurucho work fit for a detective was scarce, leaving him with little money and way too much time to dwell on his thoughts. 

Yagami could understand why, nevertheless. Crimes here in the Red Light District were oftentimes too cut and dry to need a detective like him. And cases that carried more weight than a missing cat or suspected adultery usually had people thinking ‘Police’ rather than ‘P.I’. No matter, it was a pain in the ass for Yagami, and his wallet, and rent couldn’t be put off forever. 

One thing that always sold no matter who you are is sex. However, he would’ve liked if Hamura hadn’t become his number one customer. 

Yagami would’ve preferred to do Matsugane’s collection jobs instead.

Yagami was uncomfortably familiar with Hamura’s place at this point, to the point where he could just waltz past Hamura after he opened the door and make his way to his couch. His apartment was red, a dark, sensual red that made the place look like a love hotel more than anything. Walking in here made him feel like some ditzy little thing who was giving her sugar daddy a nightly visit for her ‘allowance’. Shame the company couldn't have been nicer.

Hamura closes the door and goes right over to sit next to Yagami, spreading his legs out so far he was practically doing splits in front of him. Yagami didn’t say anything, it’s his home after all. 

Doesn’t stop Hamura from being a snarky shit, and after a long, lingering, almost comfortable silence, he decides to ruin it. “You look comfortable.”

“What?” Yagami asks, crossing one leg over the other. He doesn’t do fancy get ups, he comes in dressed as he always was, save for his leather coat being zipped up. He can tell by Hamura’s occasional glances that, while a minor change, still bothered him in a benign way. 

When Hamura doesn’t elaborate Yagami furrows his brows, pouting his lips. He can feel his face exactly what he looks like, like some bratty 20-something. A hostess playing up that almost childlike charm to get some extra dough. He hates it, but he learned that what Hamura sees him as. 

“Do I need to ask permission to sit now?” Yagami moves to sit up but doesn’t do it. “Is some kinda roleplay is what you’re looking for tonight?”

“Nah.” He fishes a pack of smokes from his pockets and bites one right from the box, “Got something else in mind tonight.”

He extends his arm out to Yagami, box still in his hand. Yagami raises a brow, looking at Hamura briefly for any sign of a bluff, like some petty kid pulling a prank. Though Hamura was an ass, he wasn’t that immature. Yagami trusts him just enough, and grabs a cigarette out of the box.

He rests it between his lips, and before he can reach for his own lighter, he hears a click, and Hamura is holding his fancy engraved zippo,already lit, beneath the end of the smoke.

Yagami inhales quickly, letting it smolder before he pulls away as quick as he can. “Thanks.” he mutters quietly, itching for an inhale of calming smoke while he watches as Hamura lights his own. Weird how graceful Hamura is with something so simple, his lashes batting against his high cheekbones, his own cigarette perched between his slightly chapped yet plump lips. Shit, if Hamura had been a little more pleasant, Yagami would’ve had no problem admitting he was hot. Like in that foxy older man type of way.

If Yagami allowed himself to dwell on all the ways he found Hamura hot, he would’ve probably shot himself by now. 

He holds his breath, putting off doing the one thing that was worse than denying his own thoughts. Asking questions.

He exhales all slow like, watching the smoke fade away as it leaves his mouth. “So, what are you being so nice for?”

“Can’t I be nice to someone I’m trying to fuck?”

“You paying me is all I ask for.” Yagami furrows his brows. He doesn’t hate the treatment, but it puts him on edge. He’s been in this situation far too many times to even pretend to play dumb. Guys like Hamura would only treat him with a shred of hospitality when they want something. But… he can see it on Hamura’s weathered face, the way his brows furrowed. 

“You got something on your mind?” Hell, he hasn’t seen that smirk on his face at all, and that’s usually the first thing he sees. The first thing he noticed- because it pisses him off so much.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” Yagami puffs, “But I’m a detective, and you’re not good at hiding your thoughts from your face, you know.”

All that bravado was absent tonight. Yagami didn’t like it, but at the same time he was used to it, and it not being there was worrying to say the least. What was he? Concerned over Hamura’s well being? Please. He was fine with doing the usual and getting the fuck out with his pockets a little heavier. 

He wasn’t a detective for nothing, “So, why so glum? Can’t get it up anymore?”

Hamura huffs some air through his nose and leans back on the couch, legs spread so wide he was nearly doing splits, his hand resting on his inner thigh as he looks up thoughtfully.

“It’s gonna be a little different tonight.”

“Different?” Yagami asks, leaning forward to tap the ash off into the glass ashtray on the coffee table. 

“Yeah…” Hamura drawls out, voice deep and rumbly. “I’ll pay you good too.” A pause, and his voice lowers as he speaks. “Least I can do for you.”

That catches Yagami off guard. He smirks a little, “What, feelin’ kinky tonight?”

“I ain’t.”

Yagami’s grin falters just as quick.

“My friend on the other hand is.”

Yagami nearly drops his cigarette. He waves his hands frantically. “Woah woah woah, a friend?” Yagami sets his cigarette in the ashtray and glares at Hamura accusingly. “This deal was between you and me. I’m fine with whatever shit you throw at me, but only you.”

Hamura actually chuckles like that. Yagami hates to admit how relieving to see that. “Well, didn’t realize you liked me that much, Tak.”

Yagami stammers slightly, “In your dreams, ya old perv.”

“I’m kidding.” Hamura takes another puff of his smoke and sighs again, “It ain’t a camera crew, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Just a friend who needs to blow off some steam.”

“I said I’d fuck you, I’m not looking for a pimp.”

Hamura just huffs out some more smoke, “I could cut ya off completely, and I know rents coming up soon.”

Yagami’s brow twitches. Damn, hitting right where it hurts. A specialty of Hamura’s. It’s scary how much of a dream it was to say that he could live without Hamura’s dirty, cum covered money. Hamura just smirks, his rough knuckles graze Yagami’s cheek and his thumb gently rubs his raised cheek bone. Yagami blinks a few times, he can’t even think straight.

“So just play nice, I’ll make sure he will too.” 

“Just who is this friend, anyway?”

“Like I said, he just needs a quick fuck.”

“Alright, alright.” Dodging the question? That wasn’t sketchy at all. Hell, Yagami doesn’t keep track of any of the newer Matsugane grunts, so why is Hamura so secretive all of a sudden? “Is it one of your golden boys? What was it? Kengo and Ozaki? Did they do real good and you’re buying them a cheap fuck?”

“Heh, that’s funny.” Hamura smashes out his cigarette before sitting up off the couch. “I’ll tell you right now, Tak, you didn’t ask questions before, and I suggest you keep it like that.”

“Huh?”

There’s a knock on the door. Yagami looks towards the door in intrigue while Hamura quickly strides over to the door to open it up. 

“Bout time you showed up.”

Hamura’s body blocks his view for a few seconds before he moves aside to let his friend in.

“Is this a joke?” Yagami blurts out without thinking. He didn’t know how else to react to someone in a black raincoat. “I thought you said there wasn’t going to be freaky shit. Your ‘friend’ looks like one of those masked creeps in AV.”

The rain coat man just stands there, not saying anything in response. From where Yagami’s sitting, he’s as still as a damn statue or that weird demon Yagami sees when he wakes up from his more violent nightmares. 

Hamura wraps an arm around his shoulders, all friendly like. “He just wants to remain anonymous for tonight. Forgive him if he’s a little paranoid.”

“A little is an understatement.” Save for the bottom of his nose and his cheeks, he can’t see an inch of skin on him. Even his hands are protected by two shiny leather gloves. If Yagami hadn’t known any better, he would say he was preparing to murder someone and the rain coat is to keep DNA from coming off or getting on him. Smart for something like that, terrible at setting the mood.

“Anyway, I don’t pay you to complain.”

“You don’t pay me enough for this.” Yagami recoils his legs onto the couch . He can’t even see the dudes eyes but he can feel his cold glare on him, like an ice pick straight through his skull. Maybe he can soften his gaze. 

He starts to unzip his leather jacket. He smiles at Hamura’s friend, as he starts to slowly open his coat, like peeling the skin off a piece of nice, ripe fruit. His tanned skin prickles once exposed to the open air. The way Hamura was eyeing wasn’t helping him much either, looking just like some horny old man at a soapland. 

“So, what’s your friends name?” He asks, lips curled into a coy smile. He thinks it’s so cute, doing exactly what Hamura said not to do. But Hamura looked more nervous than angry at the question, and quickly masked it under a sour face. 

“Why do you wanna know so bad?”

Yagami shrugs his shoulders as he throws his coat to the floor and lies down on the couch, presenting himself as best he can. He puts his hands behind his head, groaning at how his muscles stretch, “I wanna know what to call him when he fucks me.”

“And I have to pull teeth with you to get the same treatment.” Hamura rolls his eyes, shifting hi weight onto his other foot, “Alright, fine. You can call him Mitsuru.”

“Mitsuru, huh?” The raincoat man- Mitsuru- looks at Hamura, the leather of his gloves squeaking angrily as he balls his hands into a tight fist, looking ready to slug Hamura right in the face. Yagami, while more than happy to see Hamura getting the shit knocked out of him, also wanted to get paid for tonight. 

“It’s a common enough name-” He quickly cuts in, “I can think of five Misturu’s that came into my office.” He chuckles, clearly nervous at the growing tension between then men. It was like watching two roosters in a cock fight. 

“Bullshit, you can’t even get one person in a week.” Hamura scoffs.

“Nice, real nice, Cap.” Yagami rolls his eyes and plucks the button on his jeans. It seems to get Mitsuru’s attention. Having that hooded man stare at him like that reminded Yagami more of a horror movie than a porno, and he was no doubt the whore that was gonna get slaughtered. “So, what are you into, Mr. Raincoat? Care to tell me?”

He’s silent. Yagami raises a brow and the playful little smirk he forced onto his face was quick to falter. Hamura brings a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat awkwardly, “My guy ain't big on talkin’, ain’t that right, Mitsuru?”

There’s a certain amount of affection in Hamura’s face, and the way he smirked calling him by his given name had the question of how close they were has Yagami wondering. He quickly shook his head, as if to shake the curiosity of of his brain. He knows what kind of company he was with, and it’d be best if he didn’t know at all.

Mitsuru walks closer to Yagami, heavy combat boots thudding against the floor. Looks like he’s too high and mighty to care for basic etiquette but… now was the last time to worry about that.

Yagami gulps nervously as he cranes his head up to look at Mitsuru, his racing in his chest as this man towers over him, and suddenly he feels way too vulnerable for his liking. Not the kind that he usually feels when he’s laid sprawled out naked in front of Hamura, ready to get fucked hard for a good hour or two. At least Yagami can play along, call Hamura a horny old fuck as he’s getting taken from behind. A roundabout way of enjoying it, but whatever.

Right now, Yagami can’t tell if he’s going to get a dick shoved inside of him or a knife.

“Oi Mitsuru, quit scaring the whore.” 

Mitusuru shoots Hamura quick glare before looking back at Yagami. With one switch motion, he points at the ground. Yagami feels grateful he can get what he means. Despite Hamura’s constants threats, Yagami could fight back against him regardless of whether or not he acted on him. Even after getting socked in the face and rough fucked after, he was still a bitch with Hamura.

Yagami didn’t think of trying the same shit with this man.

Once he was off, Mitsuru quickly takes a seat on the couch. Yagami is… confused to say the least. This man was wearing enough clothes to make a nun look risque. He looks at Hamura for help. 

Hamura nods his head towards Mitsuru with a grunt, “Go on, help him unzip his coat.” He demands in place for Mitusuru, and while his voice was rough, there was a slight waver in his voice; just enough for Yagami to pick up on. Nervousness fills his belly, and sits there like he has just drank a gallon of ice cold water. Despite this he smiles up at Mitsuru, giving a nice pout of his earthy pink lips, but with the hood shielding the light from his face, he can’t even see his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be so shy.” Yagami croons as he reaches up and slowly slides the zipper down. “I bet you look real nice.”

Yagami hears Hamura make a noise from the side, neither negative or affirmative. Guess all Yagami can do is guess.

-and ignore the vast amount of throwing knives, all fastened in their holsters that spread across his chest. Yagami smiles tightly, “Nice equipment.” Probably illegal too. He strokes the handle of the one combat knife that was stored away right above his pectoral. Yagami feels like he’s flirting with death. Hopefully this freak doesn’t get the wrong idea and pulls one out on him. 

Pushed him up the wall at knife point. Yeah, that wouldn’t be fucked up. Yagami wasn’t getting chills down his spine because he enjoyed the idea of having a sharp blade against his throat. His dick wasn’t getting hard thinking about how easy it would be for the blade of any one of those knives to cut into his soft, supple skin. His jeans weren’t getting so tight that they were cutting off circulation to his legs.

“I’m not gonna ask what you do, don’t worry.” Yagami pokes the tip of his nose before sliding back on his knees. He barely notices Hamura approaching until he sits on the couch next to Mitsuru. Yagami’s smile tightens and he works quickly to undo Kuroiwa’s pants.

He pulls them down just enough, and Yagami nearly jumped back when his already hard cock busts out of it’s confines hard enough to hit his lower belly. It’s long and slender with a nice curve- elegant, almost. The foreskin pulled back, revealing a nice, red head that has pre already smeared all over it. The man lets out a hiss of air that rasps through his face mask, his pale cheeks flushed bright pink.

“Excited, Mitsuru?” Purrs Hamura while Yagami straightens himself out. He wraps an arm around Mitusuru’s shoulders and strokes his chin. Yagami raises a brow, that’s probably the most tender he’s ever seen Kuroiwa been with another person. Yagami hates to admit how nice that must feel, his large, warm yet rough hands stroking his chin. His own skin burns at the thought. 

“Yeah, he’s cute when he’s on his knees. He can be really good if you guide him the right way.”  
Hamura chuckles, “Just don’t get to rough with him, alright?”

There’s a slight waver in Hamura’s, Yagami tilts his head. “Oh can he be any rougher than you?”

“Ha-”

Both Hamura and Yagami look at Mitsuru, both of their eyes wide. 

Hamura struggles,, “We’re being nice tonight.”

Another chill of excitement runs up Yagami’s spine. He doesn’t know what his deal is today, he doesn’t really get off to the thought of being hurt while he’s fucked. At least he thinks he doesnt. 

The light from the overhead lamp bounces off the throwing knives. Freshly sharpened, he bets, and could slice his skin like butter. Yagami’s lips part with a tiny gasp that brushes against the shaft of Mitusuru’s dick, making it twitch, a pearly drop of pre sliding down the shaft. Yagami licks his lips and wraps his hand around his cock.

He starts pumping him, slow, as if to warm him up even though it’s obvious he’s been aching for a while. Mitusuru lets out a moan, already stifled and even more so through the mask. Yagami likes to tease, no matter who he’s with, because he’s just that confident in his abilities. Sure he’s doing this for money but he makes it Hamura’s money worth. It makes it more enjoyable for himself too. 

His gloved hand buries itself in Yagami’s unruly hair and pulls him closer. Yagami gets the message and presses his lips against the head. He smells nice, clean- sterile almost. Yagami tries to to dwell, or even worse compare it to Hamura’s potent musk of expensive cologne and vanilla. He takes more in his mouth, the shaft hot as it pulses right against his warm, wet tongue. That feeling alone is enough to make Yagami ignore the rest and work his tongue like the pro he is. 

Mitsuru guides him up and down. Asides from a few low grunts, he’s surprisingly quiet. Yagami grunts, if just slightly, in between bobs of his head. Taking his shaft down his throat, that nice warmth squeezing around the length. What the fuck? Was he not doing good enough? What kinda head is he getting if it makes Yagami look like he’s doing a shit job that he can’t even make him moan.

Hamura ain’t the only one Yagami can turn into a puddle with his mouth. He’s done Kaito, Hoshino, hell even Izumida and Tsukumo; and none of them could keep their traps shut for long when he went down on them.

Yagami looks up at him, trying to keep his confused frustration down and look at him with sultry eyes, batting his long lashes into a nice, half lidded gaze. He slides his lips up his cock, trailing wet with spit and pre before pushing back down with a loud squelch. He grunts as it hits the back of his throat, and when he tries to pull back he’s met with resistance from the hand on his head.

“Good, right?” Hamura asks, lips curved into a sharp grin, seeming to have his usual smart ass deminor back. Not that Yagami misses it or anything. Hamura’s hand rests on the tent on his pants, itching for relief. He turns to face Mitsuru and pulls the bottom half of his mask down, letting him see his lips, slim and pink, and a little damp from panting behind the cloth.

Mitsuru nods his head and he pushes Yagami down more. The younger man gasped hard through his nose, tears pricking the corner of his eyes but refuse to fall. His throat tightens around the intrusion, testing his gag reflex.

Hamura chuckles and leans close, capturing Mitsuru’s lips in a kiss. Hamura’s eyes close, running a hand over Mitsuru’s chest before pushing on the back of his head so they stay together for just a bit longer. The hand in Yagami’s hair tightens, the sting of pain making Yagami groan, and he tries to pull away, his throat burning a little too much for his liking. His spit dripping down from his lips down Mitsuru’s balls.

Mitsuru parts from Hamura with a gasp, and releases Yagami’s head from the death grip. He hadn’t cum yet, his cock twitches in protest, being let from the warm embrace of Yagami’s mouth. 

Him and Hamura savor the sight. Yagami’s spit covered lips all red and swollen, almost like he was wearing lipstick. Mitsuru moans, pleased at the show, but he wants it to go on. Hamura knows he isn’t patient at all.

Yagami hears another zipper come undone, and when he looks up he sees Hamura pulling his dick out of his pants. The differences between his and Mitsuru’s cocks were more apparent than they were in his head, but he doesn’t dare say that. It just made Hamura’s cock look thicker than usual. Something about the familiarity made Yagami less hesitant than usual to take it in his hands and start stroking.

Hamura’s head tilts back, letting out a pleased groan as Yagami strokes them at a tandem. “I bet he’ll look real good with both of us in his mouth. He took your dick down for that long with no problem, I’m sure he’ll manage.”

Mitsuru nods his head, and when he starts to stand up Hamura follows. Yagami lets go of them, letting the stand in front of them, both of their dicks just hanging in front of his face, weeping pre and aching for attention. 

“Go on, take us both. I know how much you love it.”

Yagami just winks at Hamura and takes them both back in his hands. He keeps his strokes with Mitsuru’s dick slow, not wanting him to bust so soon when Hamura had such a nice idea. He takes the head of Hamura’s cock in his mouth, giving it a few licks, that deep, rich smell and salty taste of his pre almost comforting. He swallows is down, savoring that salty taste on his tongue with a loud, wanton moan.

“Come on, Mitsuru.” Hamura husks, tugging him closer, “Get it in there, back in that hot mouth. Look at him, fucking taking it down that slutty throat of his.”

Yagami shudders, looking up at Hamura, brain in a daze at the words and a spike of pleasure shooting right up his cock. His pants feel way to fucking tight, and if his hands weren’t occupied he would’ve ripped them off by now. But he’s with Hamura, who doesn’t like when he acts out of turn, and now with his freaky ass friends he doesn’t even want to test. 

He feels the slick head of Mitsuru’s cock press against his cheek, smearing his pre on his skin. Yagami pulls off Hamura’s cock, just enough so he can fit both his and Hamura’s into his mouth. His winces, his lips stretch uncomfortably around the two dicks. What he can’t fit in his mouth he continues to pump, keeping every bit of sensitive skin lavished in attention.

“Take it all, Tak. What did I tell you, Mitsuru? He’s a fucking slut, he’ll take us in both of his holes at once.”

Yagami nearly chokes on his own spit. What did he just say?

Hamura kisses Mitsuru again, letting their tongue mesh between their mouths. The sounds they make are almost as obscene as the one coming from Yagami as he sucks them off. Two dicks at once? Yagami can already feel it inside of him, it doesn’t feel bad at all. Shit, he can’t argue with Hamura on being a whore. He really is one.

Getting fucked by a yakuza captain and his weird hooded assassin friend. Sounds like a title on some sketchy as porn video he’d find on the internet.

Hamura lets out a groan when he cums. The only warning being some loud noise he makes was custom at this point. He can feel Mitsuru cum as well, two powerful spurts of cum flooded his mouth from both sides- but he doesn’t make a fucking sound. Maybe he had; but it was masked by Hamura no doubt. 

Yagami moans with his eyes closed in bliss, not letting a single drop do to waste as they empty themselves into his mouth and all over each other. Yagami looks up at them, letting them see their cum on his hot pink tongue before he swallows it down. Some drips down his chin, his neck and pools into the little divots on his collar bones. Some drips onto his knees, staining his tight jeans that were seconds away from getting ripped right off of his legs. Even when he pulls his mouth off he cleans up their softened cocks, licking up the mix of their seed and gulping it down like a man parched for water. 

“God…” Hamura groans in discomfort at the attention to his cock. “Pull off and get your pants off already. Give me and Mitsuru a show while you’re at it, make us want to fuck that cute ass of yours.”

Yagami clicks his tongue, wiping the rest of the spit and cum on his chin on the back of his arm before standing up. His chest is already covered in a thin sheen of sweat, pulsing alongside his heart. His cock aches against the confines of his jeans, desperately wanting to be freed. He runs a hand down his chest, fingers brushing past his dark, perked nipple, down his abs and to his cock where he bites his lip. 

Fuck, he wants it bad. They want it bad. He’ll give it to them. He’ll give it to them both. 

“Worth your money, you horny old fuck?” 

“The way you look you want me to shove it up your ass too.”

“Heh…” Yagami turns around and bends slightly, giving his ass a shake as he undoes his belt. “Maybe I want you too, will there be any room between your dicks?”

“We’ll make room.”

Yagami is so happy they can’t see the giddy grin on his face. He feels like he’s never been fucked before, like a fucking virgin all over again. His body needs a firm touch, and both Hamura and his friend are more than happy to give it. His scalp still stings from Mitsuru pulling on his hair and his throat burns from the face fucking that followed. He pulls down his jeans and underwear and kicks them to the side before he turns back around, his cock swaying with the movement, twitching at the breeze.

“Ohh, look who’s fucking eager.” Hamura licks his lips, slowly stroking his cock back to hardness. “Get on the couch. Keep those legs spread too.”

Yagami nods his head at the position. Mitsuru seems just as confused. “Calm down, I know you don’t give a shit but I’d rather Tak not bleed out.”

It takes a few seconds for it to click. “Wow, actually prepping me? It must be my birthday.”

“And I can choose not to, it’s my money I’m wasting here.” Hamura grabs the bottle of lube off the coffee table and flicks the cap open while Yagami spreads his legs. The cold air against his hole makes him shudder, the bunch of muscles tensing in protest. He rests his one leg over the back of the couch, his cock laying flush against his belly. Mitsuru must like what he sees because he’s looking right at him.

Yagami just smirks and gives him a cheeky wink.

Hamura sits between them, grabbing Yagami’s shoulder as if to keep himself steady while he brings two fingers to his puckered hole. Yagami hisses at the cold liquid against his sensitive entrance, his toes curling at the sensation. “C-cold.”

“No shit.” Hamura whispers, pressing two fingers inside, “Loose as usual. Did you cheat on me?”

Yagami smirks. Hamura makes it so easy for both of them, not like it was a bad thing. Both of them know they love doing this to each other.

“Yeah I did. Had Kaito fuck me this morning. Woke up in his bed and said I wouldn’t leave until he gave me some breakfast sausage.” 

“One more quip like that and Im gonna fucking gag you.” Hamura starts to move his fingers faster, “Rest assured, both me and Mitsuru here are gonna make Kaito’s dick feel like nothing.”

“Well-nnn have you seen it?” Yagami manages in between sparks of pleasure that made it hard to speak. Hamura’s fingers are rubbing against that bump inside of him, and right on cue he starts to pay attention to it. Probably to shut him up. Won’t stop him from trying. “It’s fucking huge you know. Ohhh…” Yagami throws his head back when Hamura shoves his fingers up to the third knuckle into his ass.

“Shut it. Kaito ain’t here or that cute piece of ass that works at Genda’s.” Hamura growls right into his ear before he adds another finger and shoves. He starts slow with the extra one, usually two is enough but if it’s two dudes maybe 4 will be needed. 

But Yagami’s ass just takes Hamura’s fingers like they’re nothing and soon all three of them are disappearing inside of him. He tries to spread him, making as much room as he can in Yagami’s ass. The younger man lets out a mix between a cry and a groan, his hips bucking up towards Hamura as his cock twitches, a fat glob of pre dripping from the tip and onto his stomach. “F-fuckkk.”

“Heh.” Hamura sounds amused, “I’m just using my fingers and you look like you’re about to cum all over yourself.” He feigns dissapointment, both of them knowing damn well Hamura would fuck him even if Yagami came right now. He’d probably do it as punishment; over exerting his body that hasn’t even come down from the post orgasm high. The thought alone has a desperate moan hoping from Yagami’s parted lips.

Hamura pulls his fingers out of Yagami’s hole. He lets out a moan of discomfort, his gaping ass trying to clasp around that wonderful intrusion that isn’t there no more. Mitsuru lays down on his back and gestures Yagami over with a wag of his gloved finger. With all of those knives and assorted weapons, Yagami feels like he’s taking a belly flop into a spike pit. 

Yagami grabs the lube from Hamura and pours some on his hand. He’s nice, he rubs his hands together until the lube is nice and warm before he strokes it over Mitsuru’s cock. Those cute lips part with a slight moan. Yagami smirks, feeling a strange sense of pride. “Knew you couldn’t stay quiet forever.”

Once Yagami feels Mitsturu is ready; his cock covered in a nice layer of lubricant, he gets on top of him, and just when he feels like he can get an actual glimpse of his face the man pulls his mask back up over his lips. Yagami chuckles, but silently curses. Damn, behind all the mind bending arousal, he’s deathly curious as to who this masked man is. He has a name, but that’s not enough for him to go on, it’s not even a full name. 

“Aren't you hot?” Yagami asks, genuine concern in his voice. “Black clothing tends to retain more heat.” He can see the sweat dripping down his cheeks, he must be cooking alive in all that clothing. The lengths a man will go to preserve his identity is amusing to say the least. He jumps when he feels Hamura’s hands grip his hips, trimmed nails digging into the soft flesh. Yagami bites his lip with an impatient moan when Hamura spreads his cheeks, his hole exposed once more before he lowers it to Mitsuru’s ass.

“Do it.” He looks over his shoulder Hamura, keeping his eyes fixed on him as the hot tip of Mitsuru’s rubs his ass. “Fuck me, don’t dissapoint me now.”

Hamura smirks, joining his cock alongside Mitsuru’s. He grabs himself, keeping it steady as he pushes past the resistance. Yagami’s eyes screw shut, groaning loudly as the stretch past the tightest part first. It’s almost too much, and when they push together, more, bare millimeters going for miles inside of his sensitive channel, his eyes shoot open with a frantic moan. 

“Hmm, so tight, almost makes you feel like a virgin.” Hamura whispers against his ear, nails dragging into his hips, leaving deep red indents. “But you’re such a whore, being able to fit two cocks inside of you like it’s nothing.”

Yagami’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the dirty talk. He hates it as much as he loves it, hearing Hamura insult him with that voice that drips with lust. He takes them both into him, meeting them halfway with a push of his hips, his walls stretching to accommodate the intrusions.

“Want more?” Hamura breath brushes past his ear, the scent of tobacco tickles Yagami’s nostrils.

“Y-yes!”

“Heh, who’s dick ya like more?”

Hamura was great at timing. Yagami can hardly think. “Uhm…” He looks at the knives on Mitsuru’s chest, imagining him holding one to his neck if he didn’t answer quick enough. 

“I-I’m sure if Mitsuru becomes a regular- ahh, I’ll like him more.”

Hamura clicks his tongue with a chuckle, “That’s a really long way of saying my cock.” He rolls his hips with a groan, cursing hard under his breath at the hot clench of Yagami’s passage. The image Yagami has in mind is downright lewd; their dicks pressed up against each other, encased by the tight, warm flesh of his insides. It's makes Yagami cock rock upwards, slapping lightly against his belly.

“Oh-oh fuck…” 

Hamura starts his movements slow, his hands firm on Yagami’s ass, guiding the younger man up and down Mitsuru’s cock as well as his own. Mitsuru’s hands soon find their way on Yagami’s hips as well, holding him in place as he starts to thrust his hips up inside of him. 

Without realizing he clutches onto Mitsuru for support, feeling like his arms are going to buckle from beneath him at any second. “H-holy shit…” Yagami whispers as they both slam into him, working him more, loosening his hole up so they can slide all the way in. Hamura works quicker than Mitsuru, the position allows more leverage for him to do so, letting him reach nice and deep into Yagami’s tight clutch of muscle.

“A-ah!” Yagami cries out. He can feel Mitsuru’s cock pressed right against his prostate, the pressure high between his walls and Hamura’s thick cock. The cloth of Hamura’s dress pants, and the faintest bit of leather from his his undone belt press against his ass once the man finally managed to work his entire length into his stretched out ass. Yagami is already seeing stars, the ache from being breached gone, replaced by a sensation Yagami could get addicted too like a fucking junkie. Perhaps he already was. He did always come crawling back to Hamura in the end.

“Oh, harder!” He reaches behind, spreading his cheeks out more. Hamura bites his lip, he definitely got the better spot. He could ram his dick into Yagami as hard as he wanted and he got the best view too. The image of Yagami taking two dicks at once has crossed his mind several times, but shit, reality always beats mere fantasy, and seeing Yagami’s tight pucker stretched around his and Mitsuru’s dick was just pressing him closer to the edge. 

“Oh fuck! Of f-fuck!” Yagami’s eyes roll to the back of his head. It’s like his body moves on it’s own, pushing back as far as he can on them. Mitsuru’s hands tighten on his hips as he tilts his head back with a muffled groan.

“A-ahnn…” 

“Huh? You can’t keep quiet too, huh?” Yagami drawls, leaning forward.

“Nnn?”

Yagami smiles cockily as he slips a finger under the mask and pulls it down. He can tell by his grimace that he’s caught off guard, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about who he is. “Got some nice lips…” He runs a finger over his plump bottom lip. For such a scary man, he can tell he’s pretty beneath that mask. From those smooth cheeks, cute nose and fucking lips that were made for sucking dick.

“Give me a kiss~” And before the man can accept or deny, Yagami sticks his tongue out, connecting their open mouths in a messy dance that has Yagami moaning wantonly. It can barely even be called a kiss with the way he shoves their tongues together. He tastes much better than Hamura, that’s for sure. 

Mitsuru’s tongue plays along with his. He’s sure Hamura is loving the show, too, if the way his thrusts sped up where to say anything. Yagami pants and moans into Mitsuru’s mouth, making their lips part even if he wants to keep their little tongue twist going for just a bit longer. 

“O-oh f-fuck m-me. Br-breed me!” His cock twitches again, harder this time. He can feel his balls tighten as he inches closer and closer. 

Mitsuru quickly grabs a hold of Yagami’s head and forces him back down towards him. Yagami expects a kiss, but his head slides past is and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder. 

Fucked up that spark of pain is enough to finish him off. He moans frantically, bucing his hips as he cums right on Mitsuru’s belly, his white cum contrasting starkly to the black clothing. His eyes roll to the back of his head once more as he mouth gapes, drool leaking from the corners of his mouth.

“O-oh g-godd. So f-full…” His ass tightens around them, feeling more stuffed than ever as they continue thrusting into his abused passage and against his overstimulated prostate. Hamura doesn’t take long, and neither does Mitsuru. They make sure they’re stuffed nice and deep inside of him, their balls clapping together against Yagami’s as they empty themselves inside.

“F-fill me, oh shit…” He can feel their warm seed fill him up, feeling all stuffed up and sweet like a cream puff. “St-stay in.” He pleads quietly, laying on top of Mitsuru; his skin damp with fresh sweat and little bits of hair stuck to his forehead, a dazed smile of pure bliss spread across his face. 

“You look so nice like that, Tak.” Hamura pats his ass, slowly pulling out his wet and messy dick from Yagami’s hole with Mitsuru soon following with a quiet ‘pop’. Yagami moans in distress, wriggling his hips a little. 

Hamura smirks, taking in the sight of Yagami’s gaping, winking hole as his and Mitsuru’s cum flows from his ass. Yagami shivers, he almost wants to reach around and plug his fingers into his ass, keeping both of their loads inside of him for just a bit longer. However he can feel himself coming back to his senses, and maybe he’d do that… if it was with anyone but Hamura.

Yagami scares himself with how quick he can lose himself if someone just gives it to him right. Hamura is a fucking asshole but… damn if he wasn’t good with that dick of his. Asshole like him doesn’t deserve to fuck as good as he does.

Hamura’s friend ain’t that bad either. As long as he ignores the whole creepy raincoat and the mini arsenal he has underneath it. Money is money, and silence is worth its weight in gold. 

Yagami slowly pulls himself off Kuroiwa and just as carefully gets himself onto his feet. There’s an ache in his ass, and more and more cum just flows from his ass, making a sticky mess in between his thighs. As much as he wants to take his money and run, there’s no way he’s putting on his clothes just yet. 

He looks back at Hamura and Mitsuru. Hamura’s all red faced and flustered, his hair all messed up and disheveled. Yagami can’t see anymore of Mitsuru’s face than what he has all night, but he’s just surprised the guy hasn’t died of heat stroke in the damn rain coat. 

“500,000 sound good for tonight, Cap? Just leave the money on the counter, I’m gonna use your shower.”

“Did I say you could use my shower?”

“Tch.” Yagami starts heading towards the bathroom anyway, “You said I get extra tonight, cut me some slack.”

…

“You sure you’re alright?”

Hamura is sure his words can be heard between all the painting Kuroiwa was going. He takes a drag of his cigarette, the breeze from the open balcony felt nice against his still heated skin.

Save for his underwear, all of Kuroiwa’s heavy black clothing, his raincoat, and the holster for his knives were strewn about the living room floor. Hell even his gun holster was too much for him. Kuroiwa was hunched over the railing, panting for dear life. If Hamura felt hot, Kuroiwa was cooked like a well done steak, sweat running down his body like a waterfall and his cheeks so red he looked like he was going to explode. 

Hamura clicks his tongue when he gets no actual response. He nods his head as he brings his cigarette back to his lips. “Told you it was a bad idea to fuck in that thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> So you know. Leaves kudos and comment on shit I can improve or how much you liked it. Either will make my heart sing  
@MADVSC


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